


Negotiations

by oiyukis



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Ambiguous Age, M/M, Manipulation, Passive Aggressive Jealousy, Pre-Series, Subtle Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 19:46:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2480246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oiyukis/pseuds/oiyukis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>According to the rumor mill, and to Kouha, Judal has been spending his time with the lower rung of court servants – dancers, poets, entertainers of all types. He’s also been causing trouble among the black-robed folk, ignoring their orders, spurning their company, and assaulting them with fruits when they come too close.</p><p>Kouha says Judal has hit a rebellion in full-stride.</p><p>The next time Kouen sees the magi, he has to agree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Negotiations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [truptutupta](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=truptutupta).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY FOR MY LOVELY truptutupta ~ I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS!!!! i’m really sorry if you don’t.

Judal comes into Kouen’s chambers right around the time the servant is working off his own robe with shaking fingers. Judal doesn’t spare him a glance, keeping his narrowed eyes on the first prince. “Get out.”

“I—”

“Get _out_!”

In a panicked flurry of robes, the boy runs from the room. Judal snaps his hand after him, slamming the doors closed in his wake.

When he turns back to Kouen, the man has the audacity to look bored, still dressed in the formal robes from the afternoon ceremony.

“Judal.” Somehow, Kouen makes the bed feel like a throne. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“You can tell me what the hell you were doing with. With _that_.”

Kouen lifts an eyebrow, the tilt of his lips amused. “It isn’t unusual for the servants to offer certain services when the need arises.”

“The need?” Judal parrots dangerously.

“Did you come here for something, magi?”

“Yeah, to stop _you_.” He folds his arms. “You’re my king candidate. You’re not allowed to play around with people inferior to you.”

“Inferior to me?” Kouen leans back on one of his arms, the other over his lap. “And who would you consider an equal? Or even a superior?”

“Well, no one.” Judal waves his hand shortly. “You’re my first choice. I won’t have you screwing that up.”

“I’m not going to be celibate because of some childish desire of yours.”

“I am _not_ childish,” Judal snaps. “And I never said you had to be celibate.”

Kouen makes no comment, waiting.

Judal takes a breath, setting his shoulders. “You’re my king candidate. I’m a magi. If you need something you should come to _me_.”

At that, Kouen snorts. _Snorts_. “You’ve never so much as held another’s hand and you think you could do this?”

“You don’t know what I’ve done or not,” Judal seethes. “If you’re going to use other people, then I’ll find a king candidate that won’t.”

Kouen’s amusement disappears, replaced by something stoic and intimidating. “Pray tell, where in the Kou Empire will you find someone that has more Djinn than I?”

“ _Pretentious_ ,” Judal huffs. “I don’t have to. I can just make them a Dungeon.”

Kouen’s eyes narrow, if only slightly. “I don’t take kindly to blackmail, magi or not.”

“It’s not blackmail,” Judal says. “It’s a choice.”

“I already made my choice.”

Judal frowns, resisting the urge to stamp his foot on the ground. “Why?”

“Is it hard to believe I don’t have an interest in you?”

“Yes!”

Kouen scoffs at him, “just like a child.”

“Just because you treat me as one doesn’t mean I am one.”

“I won’t repeat myself, Judal.”

Judal holds his stare for a long moment, breaking it to grumble insults under his breath. He leaves Kouen’s room much the way he came, and despite the valiant effort he makes to ignore the servant from before waiting by the door, he can’t help but turn and watch as the boy reenters the room.

Damn Kouen.

Childish? Inexperienced? Judal will prove he’s anything but, and then Kouen will. . .

Want him? It’s what Judal wants—for his king candidate to need him, to want him. And he doesn’t want another, he wants it to be Kouen.

Judal turns, striding away from Kouen’s chambers. He’ll be back.

 

-

 

Kouen doesn’t think much about Judal’s absence over the following handful of days. The black-robed people that answer to his mother are always taking Judal out to raise Dungeons and make appearances at political events.

Days, however, turn into weeks, and Kouen sees nothing of the magi.

According to the rumor mill, and to Kouha, Judal has been spending his time with the lower rung of court servants – dancers, poets, entertainers of all types. He’s also been causing trouble among the black-robed folk, ignoring their orders, spurning their company, and assaulting them with fruits when they come too close.

Kouha says Judal has hit a rebellion in full-stride.

The next time Kouen sees the magi, he has to agree.

He comes upon them purely by accident, taking the courtyard path as a shortcut to the library. The Imperial Princess Kougyoku is standing in the garden, holding a loud, lengthy conversation with a nearly bare-skinned boy sitting before her.

“—inappropriate?”

“Nah, they’re more comfortable to wear. Easier to get sand out of too, when I’m out in the deserts messing with Dungeon magic.”

“You don’t feel. . .drafty?”

“ _Hah_! Sure, but that’s the good part!”

It’s Judal. He can’t quite make out the specifics, but he recognizes the voice. His hair is pulled over his shoulder, showing most, if not all, of his back off. His pants sag almost past his hips, riding as low as possible.

“Oh!” Kougyoku has noticed him now, flushing and bowing properly. “Good afternoon.”

He inclines his head to her, but his focus stays on Judal as the boy twists around.

“Kouen!” Judal jumps to his feet, standing before him in a few long strides.

Upon closer inspection, Judal has also armed himself with golden bracelets and a thick, jeweled necklace. His eyes are lined with dark makeup, lids heavily shadowed in purple. His shirt is only made decent because of the white wrap hanging around his shoulders, and his feet are bare.

Rebellion indeed, though Kouen doubts it’s because of his mother’s followers.

Judal looks too. . .purposefully seductive for that.

“Judal.” He keeps his expression passive. “You’ve been absent.”

“I had to raise a few Dungeons,” Judal shrugs. “Where are you going?”

“. . .I’m retiring early.”

“It’s not even sunset,” Judal folds his arms, cocking his head. “You sick?”

“No.” Kouen turns.

“I’ll walk with you,” Judal declares, falling into step with him. “I met an interesting person while I was raising a Dungeon.”

“Oh.”

“Mm. He’s conquered,” Judal pauses for effect, “ _six_ Dungeons. One or two were mine, but most were that weirdo Yunan’s.”

Kouen knows who Judal is speaking about. He’s heard about the man from almost every one of his spies if foreign territories. Sinbad the Sailor, he calls himself.

“He’s not Yunan’s king candidate, though. I think I might snatch him for myself.”

“Oh?”

“It doesn’t hurt to have a backup plan,” Judal says quickly, coolly. “He was quite the. . .hm, conqueror.”

“If you’re attempting to imply you slept with him, say so.”

“I don’t kiss and tell, Kouen.” Judal strides a few paces ahead. “Not that you would know.”

 

 

Judal isn’t really expecting his plan to work.

He’s definitely not expecting Kouen to grab his arm and toss him on the bed as soon as they reach his room. Kouen kneels over him, expression as smooth as his voice. “Is this your attempt at getting what you want, Judal?”

Judal inclines his head, eyebrows lifting. “If it is?”

He barely has time to yelp as Kouen flips him onto his stomach, fingers digging into his hips. “You’re too accustomed to getting what you want,” Kouen says.

“So are you,” Judal snaps back.

Judal peeks over his shoulder as the rustling of fabric reaches his ears. Kouen rids himself of everything save the simple robe underneath his armor, and Judal bares his teeth at the inconsideration.

“I want you naked.”

“Perhaps next time.” Kouen reaches up to press Judal’s face hard into the mattress. “If you make it worth it.”

“Find out, then,” Judal mutters.

He turns his head when Kouen removes his hand, breathing deeply. Kouen doesn’t waste any time playing around, hooking his fingers in the hem of Judal’s pants and pulling them down. Kouen’s weight shifts out of Judal’s view for a moment, and when his fingers press against him they’re warm and slick.

Judal has to bite his tongue as Kouen presses two fingers inside. He moves them quickly and thoroughly, focusing on stretching instead of giving pleasure.

Despite that, it never crosses Judal’s mind that this might not have been a great idea.

Kouen works his fingers steadily, until Judal is squirming and panting from the pressure alone. Every time he tries to press closer, Kouen presses down on his tailbone to keep him in place. He feels a bit like a doll, but it doesn’t feel bad.

“Judal.”

Judal’s entire body twitches as Kouen pulls out his fingers. “ _What_?”

“Did you sleep with that man you were talking about?”

“What?” Judal tries to look over his shoulder, but Kouen pushes his head back down. He swallows thickly when he feels Kouen line himself up, eyes fluttering closed when Kouen’s thumb begins to tease in and out.

“Did you, or was that part of this plan of yours as well.” Kouen leans down, breathing into Judal’s ear. “You see, I don’t like to _share_.”

He accents the word with a sharp thrust, sliding in with one quick move. Judal can’t hold back his surprise, body tensing around the intrusion, which really only serves to make him feel even more open.

Rather than move, Kouen holds himself still, pressing down on Judal’s back with one hand. “Did you,” he asks again, “or am I your first?”

“ _Move_ , Kouen.”

“First, answer.”

Judal grits his teeth, shaking his hair from his eyes. “You are,” he grunts.

The noise Kouen makes is pleased—the noise of someone who knew the answer before they asked. He traces his hand up Judal’s spine, unclasping the necklace so he can replace it with his fingers.

“Don’t lie to me, Judal. Ever.”

“Don’t _dismiss_ me, Kouen. Ever.” Judal replies angrily.

“This is about your pride, then?”

Judal laughs shortly, feeling breathless. “It’s about _your_ pride.”

“Hm. Perhaps.”

 

 

After, Judal sprawls over as much of Kouen’s bed as he can take up. He knows Kouen is watching him, probably filing things away for later use, but he doesn’t care. He feels sticky and filled, and though it wasn’t really what he imagined it wasn’t something he disliked.

“I told you that I don’t like to share.”

“Not surprising, really.” Judal drawls.

“If you’re my magi, then you’re mine. Is that clear?”

Judal rolls onto his back. “Mm.”

“Is that what you wanted in the first place?”

Judal grins, keeping his eyes closed. “Mm.”

“Conniving.” Kouen pauses. “Fitting, for a magi of my empire.”

“Not yours yet,” Judal says lightly, peering at him with one eye.

Kouen stares back at him.

“Soon, though,” Judal promises. “It will be.”

 

 


End file.
